


Charles... What a Nice Name.

by Xaviar



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2646410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaviar/pseuds/Xaviar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik meets a mysterious and charismatic fellow in a bar, who he quickly becomes very attracted to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charles... What a Nice Name.

Erik Lehnsherr picked up his spoon and dipped it into the unexciting bowl of orange, slightly translucent soup sitting on the bar bench in front of him. It was probably supposed to be pumpkin, but whatever Erik was tasting, he thought, could not have been of organic origin. Eventually, having gotten sick of trying to consume this under-performing consommé, he ended up just chucking his spoon back on table and placing his head in his hand.

Sullenly, he looked around the club as best as he could without having to actually move his head. The club was mediocre, but it was really just for people who wanted to get some action. _God_ this was boring. Ever since he arrived in America, he just wanted to get on with his life, but not like this.

He could see a man going from girl-to-girl-to-guy-to-girl, making his way in a steady clockwise pattern around the club towards Erik.

“Well, _some_ people are just desperate I guess…” Erik mumbled to himself, but within a moment the little man was standing beside him, a smirk on his face.

“Hi.” the man said, smirking. Erik thought there was something weird about him, but he couldn’t quite make it out. Maybe it was his face, he thought, it was just… weird… like a fish. Erik could feel the nerves pulsing in his temples. He was already getting agitated by the man-boy looking at him. He gripped the spoon, for no particular reason other than… comfort? He guessed it was the metal, the magnetic field. He looked back at Fish-Face. _Ok, Erik, you gotta socialise sometime_. _Here we go…_

“Hi…” Erik replyed. He paused, Fish-Face looking expectantly back at him. Nothing happened. They both didn’t know what to say. It was… Awkward. _Great,_ Erik thought, _the first actual guy talking to you and you can even think of something to say!_ Erik opened his mouth before he thought of any words to say.

“Ugh, nice…” he looked urgently at the man, “…nice, shirt…man.”

Fish-Face grimaced, then spotted Erik’s hand gripping the spoon anxiously. He suddenly looked relieved.

“Spoons…” he started “Even though they seem simple to _us_ today, they are such a relatively _complex_ tool. Tools like this _separated_ _us_ from primitive humans. _Homo sapiens_ from _Neanderthals_. All of this difference because of a _simple mutation_.” Erik could see the passion in his eyes. “A mutation that made us _smarter_ , and therefore _more powerful_. And now you’re using it as if it’s second nature, but you, my friend, are a _mutant_.”

Erik looked at the man before him. _What?_ Erik wondered if he said this to all the guys he wanted to fuck. He did have an alluring English accent though… The man continued almost as soon as he stopped.

“Mutation took us from _single-celled organisms_ to being the dominant form of _reproductive life_ on this planet. Infinite forms of variation with each generation, all through mutation.” He paused, smiling warmly, then he held out his hand. “I’m Charles, by the way.”

Erik shook his hand, almost curiously. _Charles…_ He, liked that name. With a sudden change of heart, Erik smiled and yelled over the bar-tender.

“Two rum and Cokes, for me and my friend, Charles!” Within minutes there were drinks their hands and joy on their faces. They sat there for ages. They were forming quite a connection actually, at least Erik thought, but then again, every minute they spent together he found Charles more attractive.

“So, my chap,” Charles said, “I just realised- you never did tell me your name...”

“Erik,” he replied, smiling, “Erik, with a K.”

Charles laughed. “A name suitable for a mutant!”

“Well, Charles, what can you expect?” He asked, then lifting his glass he exclaimed, “I’m Mutant, and proud of it!

Charles shouted with drunken excitement as they clinked glasses. “Mutant… And Proud!


End file.
